


passing notes

by warriorprincessclarke



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Pining, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-12 22:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12970065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warriorprincessclarke/pseuds/warriorprincessclarke
Summary: Tary's father drags him to Whitestone on a business venture, where Tary meets the unbearably handsome Percival De Rolo. Tary spends much of his stay in Whitestone pining after the young prince, but will Percy ever reciprocate those feelings? Especially with his own royal wedding coming up?





	1. Chapter 1

Howaardt Darrington was convinced his son was going to take over his business someday, whether he liked it or not. That is why he dragged Taryon on his latest business venture to Whitestone.

Taryon stepped out of the incredibly spacious horse drawn carriage in front of the looming doors to Whitestone castle. It seemed as if the entire Whitestone guard was standing at the entrance ready to welcome his father, and him he supposed, to the castle. He took a deep breath to gain his composure, to prepare himself for weeks in an unfamiliar land with only his father for company, and he stepped forward.

The guards greeted him nobly, but quickly move onto his father. While Taryon couldn’t care less about what these men and women thought of him, he couldn’t help but feel slighted. That was a feeling that had grown familiar to him living his life in the shadow of Howaardt Darrington.

Taryon was shocked when the first face they were greeted with in the entryway was the king of Whitestone himself, Frederick De Rolo.

“Welcome, welcome, Mr. Darrington!” The king guffawed. He noticed Taryon standing behind his father, “And young Mr. Darrington.” Less enthusiastic.

Taryon bowed at the waist like he was trained to do and began saying “your highness” but his father cut him short, “It is so nice to finally meet you Frederick.”

Howaardt stepped forward and began vigorously shaking the king’s hand. Everyone in the room was thrown off, except Taryon. Taryon was no stranger to his father’s affinity for being inappropriately over friendly. It’s never failed him before.

The king stutters, “Well, while I am sure you are ready to dive right into business, I will have Jarett show you to your rooms. We can discuss business tomorrow. Today you can take your time to relax. You must be tired after such long travel from Wildmount”

Taryon recognized his father’s inauthentic business voice, “That sounds wonderful.”

A handsome man with a buzzcut in a Whitestone guard uniform stepped forward. He lead Taryon and his father toward a tall spiral staircase. Before they could ascend it, the king stopped them.

“Wait! Before you leave,”

Taryon turned around and the king was now standing with his arm around a scruffy looking boy. He was wearing a billowing white shirt and some all too tight leather pants. His hair was curiously white, despite looking to be a similar age to Taryon. His crossed arms and brow shading his eyes gave Taryon the impression that he had been trying to avoid this situation, and failed.

“Meet my son, Percival. He will be sitting in on our business ventures. Old boy needs to learn how to be a proper king.” There was a hint of venom in the king’s voice that Percival rolled his eyes at. The king noticed and added, “Well, someday.”

“Hello Percival. Not to worry, you will not be the only unhappy child present.” Howaardt gestured to Taryon.

Percival looked startled, the same way Taryon felt. His being more from being mortified from being thrown under the carriage in front of the king of a foreign kingdom while Percival’s was more surprise at Howaardt’s brazenness.

Taryon and Percival met each other’s eyes in surprise. Even with the glare from his glasses, Taryon could see that Percival’s eyes were a cold blue-grey.

After a moment of silent bonding, Percival says, “It’s actually Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski De Rolo III.” He paused, seeming to enjoy everyone’s faces as they processed the name. Then he looked directly at Taryon and said, “But you can call me Percy.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Percy.” Taryon’s father elbowed him, so he added, “Your highness.”

“I like the sound of that,” Percy pondered, a crooked smile forming beneath his wandering eyes.  He did not look very princely. He looked like he just rolled out of bed, though it was nearing late afternoon.

“Don’t get used to it too quickly, son.” The king said.

“I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name?” Percy said, ignoring his father entirely.

“Taryon,” He stuttered, “Darrington. Taryon Darrington.”

“Percival why don’t you go put on something more suitable, it’s nearly dinnertime. You can’t look like you’ve spent all night and day traipsing around a brothel.” King Frederick said.

Taryon would have choked if he had been eating anything. He did not peg Percy for the brothel type, in the five minutes he had known him. Though, with that cocky attitude and a smirk that would make any man or woman blush, he could picture it. Taryon had to force himself to _stop_ picturing it, lest his blush become noticeable.

“Yes, father.” His voice was faux innocent, mocking. Taryon could practically see the steam coming out of the king’s ears.

Percy ran up the spiral staircase two steps at a time until he was out of sight.

“I am sorry gentlemen, I’m sure he will be more civilised at dinner. Which both of you are welcome to attend, by the way.” The king added graciously, though Taryon had a feeling it was all for show.

“Thank you, your highness. Perhaps we will see you there.” Howaardt always playing hard to get; a strategy for women _and_ business partners.

With that, Jarett showed Taryon and his father to their rooms. They walked down an endless hallway. Taryon was sure that there could not be enough furniture in all of Whitestone to fill the amount of rooms they passed. Their mansion back in Wildmount was large, but nowhere near this size.

Taryon and his father were left alone in front of two adjacent rooms.

“You do not have to attend tonight’s dinner if you do not wish,” Taryon breathed a sigh of relief, “But I do strongly encourage it.” Howaardt had a real way of making Taryon believe he had a choice in the matter, but following it with a gentle stab in the back, prodding him in his predetermined direction.

Not to indulge his father either way, he said, “Thank you, father.” And closed his door.

 

Dinner was to start in fifteen minutes, but Taryon found himself wandering the halls, his destination being anywhere but the dining room. He hoped everyone was heading down to dinner and that no one would find him. Except maybe that Percy boy, he wouldn’t mind running into him. If Percy were attending the dinner, maybe Taryon would go too.

Unfortunately, he did not run into Percy while roaming the halls. He had several near run ins with some members of the guard, but dipped away just in time to avoid them asking if he was attending dinner. It all probably seemed very suspicious for someone who was only trying to find a moment away from his father. He didn’t care though, he was going to have to spend everyday for the next who knows how many weeks in meetings with his dreadful father. He had to savor the last moments of his freedom.

Taryon found himself standing in front of two towering double doors. One was slightly ajar, as if someone had not bothered to close it behind them. He poked his head in and discovered it was a library. Every ounce of dread associated with his father instantly melted away at the sight of it. He entered with no hesitation, closing the door behind him.

It was a labyrinth of book cases. He picked a row and began perusing. He thumbed through books of myth and legend, histories of Whitestone, books of adventurers, before he nearly collided with somebody in the history of Wildmount section.

Bumbling to catch the book in his hand, he began apologizing profusely. When he looked up it was the king’s son, Percy. Taryon was confused.

“Did dinner not begin more than thirty minutes ago?” He asked Percy.

“Didn’t it?” Percy asked, shifting the meaning towards Taryon. “Wouldn’t it be polite to join the royal family for dinner on your first night of accommodation in _our_ castle?”

His voice sounded more royal than it had earlier that afternoon. More refined. Extra emphasis on his Tal’dorei accent. He looked more royal too. A jacket and waistcoat on top of what was presumably the same shirt he was wearing earlier. While this look was nice, Taryon had to admit he was more a fan of the rugged, disheveled handsomeness from before.

Taryon scrambled for words, suddenly feeling guilty for allowing himself the small pleasure of skipping dinner. Percy noticed his nerves and stopped him, “If you’ll notice, I have no place to talk.” He gestured to the room around him with both hands, while still holding a book. A book about Wildmount.

“What is that you’ve got there?” Taryon asked.

For the first time, Percy was the one who seemed uncomfortable, “Oh. You and your father are from Wildmount, are you not?”

Taryon nodded.

“I thought I would read up on you. Your family.” Percy corrected himself quickly. “Or where you’re from I suppose, since there is no mention of the Darringtons so far in any of the books I have read.” He looked at Taryon quizzically, with a splash of humor.

“We’re new money.” Taryon said.

“I don’t usually associate with new money, but I guess I could make an exception this one time.”

“I would greatly appreciate it. I need someone to talk to in this place besides my father.” Taryon said.

“He doesn’t seem like the best company. Can’t wait to be stuck in a business meeting with them for hours on end, can you?” Percy said dryly.

“Ecstatic.”

Percy laughed a hearty laugh and placed his hand on Taryon’s shoulder. “Oh, we must stick together. There is no greater bonding tool than daddy issues.”

“Yeah,” Taryon trailed off. He was focusing more on the pressure of Percy’s hand than his words.

“Percival!” Taryon recognized the voice of Jarett.

“Damn, Jarett knows me too well. Follow me.” Percy slid his hand down Taryon’s arm into the crook of his elbow and dragged Taryon behind him.

They stopped in a far corner of the library that housed books with much more colorful spines than the history section.

“My sister’s private romance section. They think I’d never be caught dead over here.”

“I would think a man who enjoys galavanting through brothels would enjoy at least _part_ of the romance section.” Taryon tried joking with Percy.

“You get caught at a brothel one time and you’re branded for life. It was one time! And let me tell you,” Percy leaned in closer and lowered his voice, “brothels are not as fun as you’d think they are. A bunch of women pawing all over you?” He turned his nose up, Taryon hoped it was at the thought of women but he forced his hopes down. “I much prefer one at a time.” He winked.

Taryon knew the wink wasn’t entirely meant for him, not in the way he wished, but his heart rate sped up anyways.

“Well then,” Taryon’s throat felt a little like sandpaper, “Where were you that left you looking so…” He scrunched his eyes, remembering how not put together Percy had looked earlier.

“Don’t finish that sentence, please, for my own vanity. It’s what happens when you spend your nights in the library and fall asleep with a book in your hands. The chairs they have in here are really quite comfortable.” His voice grew more and more defensive as Taryon’s eyes grew more amused.

While less blush worthy, Taryon believed he liked this even better. Percy was a man after his own heart. While his library at home in Wildmount was far less extensive, he couldn’t count the amount of times he had fallen asleep in odd places around the house with a book fallen flat on his face.

“I admit that does sound more fun than a brothel.”

“Well, not _that_ much more fun.” Percy backtracked. The two laughed together.

A disembodied clock from somewhere inside the library chimed a sweet melody.

“Oh look at the time, I must be getting back to my room to pretend to be dozing when my father comes to berate me for blowing off dinner.” He started walking away, but turned back and said, “I spend a fair amount of my time in this library.” Percy didn’t elaborate, didn’t set any expectations. He just walked away. As he left he called out, “Goodnight, Tary.”

_Tary._

“Goodnight, Perciv- Percy.” Taryon squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment. He heard Percy’s laugh echo through the stacks.

Taryon went to bed that night dreaming of Percy. Of his posh accent. The squeeze of his hand on his shoulder. Him falling asleep among the shelves. Him at the brothel. The way he called him Tary.


	2. Chapter 2

Tary stayed in his room most of the next day. He brought back a few books on Whitestone history, inspired by Percy, which sucked away most of the daylight hours. His mind was swimming with different De Rolos who all had very similar names. There were three separate Percival Frederickstein Von Musel Klowasski De Rolos for Pelor’s sake, which Tary now knew was the patron god of Whitestone.

By dinner time, he had read enough that he could give a presentation on the entire history of Whitestone. Not that he would dare admit that to Percy, or any of the other De Rolos. 

Tary and his father arrived to dinner and Percy was not there. Tary could feel the disappointment rising in his chest, though he should have expected Percy not to show up after yesterday.

The servants were just arriving with trays of delicious smelling food when Percival, wearing the same outfit as the day before strolled in. He took his seat, two seats to Tary’s left on the other side of the table. 

“Well, well, well, looks like both boys decided to show up tonight,” The king grimaced at his son, “No matter what state they’re in.”

“Taryon must have been exhausted from travelling, I don’t blame him.” Percy was quick to jump to Tary’s aid.

Tary noted that Percy called him Taryon and not Tary. 

“Of course you wouldn’t, you grow weary from lifting a cup of tea to your lips.” The king chided. He and Howaardt shared a hair raisingly pompous laugh.

Tary clenched his fists around his utensils. Some small part of him had hoped that being around the royal family would slow the incessant put downs, but now he had the king to worry about as well. When he looked up he noticed Percy was trying to catch his eye.

Once he had Tary’s attention, he made a grand spectacle of an eye roll. Tary contorted his lips into very strained positions trying to stave off a smile while Percy let his run wild from cheek to cheek. Their fathers were having some sort of discussion on trade, but it was only background noise to Tary. He kept trying to steal glances at Percy that Percy was already blatantly taking every time he looked up. It was a game of cat and mouse. Tary would get caught every time but he would still come back for more. The same exchange of glances, smiles, looks of exasperation until Tary eventually looked away again.

Tary felt it best, though incredibly disappointing, to stop their little game once their fathers began talking about their son’s roles in the coming business ventures they would be pursuing. He listened as intently as he could but much of his attention was focused on the burning feeling of Percy in his periphery.

After much talk about finances and real estate and other things Tary could not care any less about, the dining room door opened ceremoniously and let in a parade of people. It was mostly guards, and only some of them Whitestone, but an objectively gorgeous woman with a thick dark braid and a long evening gown headed the group. Without saying a word she took a seat next to Percy as if she belonged there.

After she adjusted her skirts to fit under the table, she noticed Tary staring at her. She cocked an overly demonstrative eyebrow at him, causing him to avert his gaze.

“Ahh Lady Vex’ahlia, so wonderful that you could join us. How was the ride over?” The king said, unphased by the hoard of humans and elves now lining the dining room walls.

“Boring as usual. But well worth it now that I am back in Whitestone.” She squeezed Percy’s bicep with her long manicured fingers.

“Where are my manners?” The king asked. “Mr. Darrington, this is Lady Vex’ahlia of Syngorn,” Lady Vex’ahlia waved elegantly at Tary’s father, “she is the heir to their throne and well, ours as well.”

Lady Vex’ahlia smiled knowingly at the king. 

“The two of them are…?” Howaardt pointed back and forth between Lady Vex’ahlia and Percy.

“Betrothed,” The word was long and drawn out, making sure everyone knew what she meant, “yes, Percival and I are to be wed.”

“Yes we are.” Percy patted her hand, which had not left his bicep.

Tary couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He had let himself believe that something was going on between him and the prince. All of the winks and the jokes and the smiles could have meant something more. It was a foolish thought. Percy’s heart belonged to another. To a woman.

Tary spent the rest of dinner staring at his food rather than eating it. His occasional glance up was only met by the sight of Lady Vex’ahlia and all of her glory. She was the trap that stood between the cat and the mouse. 

Dinner ended when Lady Vex’ahlia got up and announced, “The journey here from Syngorn was so tiring, I really must retire early. Goodnight, Percival.” She gave him a lingering kiss on the mouth and left the dining room with her head held high.

It didn’t take long for everyone else to lose interest in the post dinner conversation and follow suit. Tary made sure he was the last one to leave so he could walk back to his room in peace, he was in no mood to see anybody for the rest of the night.

In the endless hallway leading to his room, Tary noticed Percy’s stiff yet still swaggering gait ahead of him. He didn’t say anything, unsure of what to say. There was no reason to say anything. Not anymore. No matter how much he wanted to.

Hoping he wouldn’t have to say anything, Tary deliberately made as much noise as he could opening his door. He jimmied the metal knob and pushed against the creaking wood.

Percy turned around and Tary immediately regretted trying to get his attention. What was he going to say? He had to figure it out quickly because Percy had shifted course completely and was walking towards him.

“Tary!” 

He called him Tary again.

“Hello Percy.”

“You got it right this time.” Percy pointed out.

Tary looked away and shifted his weight from foot to foot. He still didn’t know what to say. The silence grew awkward.

“You never told me you were getting married.” Tary blurted out. If he could have slapped himself , he would have.

“We’ve known each other less than twenty four hours, man, it hadn’t come up yet.” Percy chuckled. He worried that Percy thought him to be stupid, but he sounded good natured. Tary wanted to describe it as endearingly amused, but he wasn’t letting himself think like that anymore.

“She seems lovely.” Tary lied. He was terrified of this Vex’ahlia woman. “Very pretty.”

“My father could have picked worse.” Percy said.  _ He didn’t say she was pretty. _

“I guess that’s all you can hope for.”

Tary’s father had threatened him with an arranged marriage more than once. It had always seemed like an empty threat until Howaardt began showing him pictures of some girl named Penelope. But that was only after he caught Tary with Lawrence. 

“The wedding is in a few weeks.” Percy offered up voluntarily. “You should come, if you’re still here. Should be fun. Dancing. Ale. Girls.”

Tary flinched.

“Of course, I’d love to.” Tary said, though whether or not he would even like to go was still up in the air.

“And I’ll need someone to run away with,” Tary’s daydream prone heart skipped a beat, “you know, when the party gets too drab. Lady Vex’ahlia is all for shaking hands and kissing babies, but I figure I’ll leave that all to her. Let her enjoy it.”

Tary decided laughing was the best response.

“You laugh, but you can bet your ass I will not be at that party more than an hour.”

“I guess I will meet you in the library then.” Tary said.

“I’ll smuggle a bottle of wine. I won’t even have to smuggle it, I’m basically the bloody king after I marry her!”

They both share in the joke. Throughout the conversation Percy had been inching closer to Tary’s door frame. By the end, Tary had backed up entirely into his room and Percy had taken up his entire entryway, with one arm resting above his head on the door frame. His demeanor was so casual, it contrasted with his royal clothes in a way that was driving Tary a bit mad.

The awkward silence returned.

Tary coughed to break the tension. “Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you from your betrothed.” In that moment it hit him that Lady Vex’ahlia’s room was probably in the endless hallway as well. He scolded himself for believing Percy was heading this way for something as innocent as the library.

Percy looked as if he had just snapped back to reality. “Of course. I’ve seen her when she’s happy which means I do  _ not  _ want to see her when she’s upset.” He put his hands together and pretended to pray for himself.

“Goodnight, Percy. Good luck.” Tary said as if Percy was headed into war. Percy found it to be quite funny.

“Thank you, Tary, good man.” 

With that Percy darted down the endless hallway.

Tary could not sleep that night so he made his way to the library. He was sure that it would be abandoned this late at night, rather so early in the morning. He perused the shelves and found himself in the romance section that Percy had taken him to.

He opened a few that sounded promising, but they all proved to begin with the word “she.” He skimmed through nearly twenty books before he gave up and promised to look harder another time when he was less tired. 

Tary was about to leave when he heard noises coming from nearby. He thought it might be a guard, but Whitestone guards wear thin metal armor at all times and there a distinct absense of clanking. But ther was shuffling, and was that laughter?

He followed the sound around a corner and found what looked like a cave in the wall. Upon further investigation it was a reading nook with chairs and pillows and book strewn around the floor. Upon even further investigation, it was not empty.

On one of the chairs, that Percy claimed were oh so comfortable, were two figures. He recognized the puffy white shirt immediately. He was up on his knees straddling the other figure whom he did not have to guess the identity of. He thanked every god he could think of that the both of them were fully clothed. He almost retracted it when saw them lip locked and heard Percy’s giggle overshadow Lady Vex’ahlia’s.

Tary broke himself out of his trance and quietly slipped away from the obviously happy couple. He couldn’t believe that he fell for it again. All it took was one more smile, one more joke from Percy to pull him right back in. It had hardly been two days since they had met. This happened with every pretty boy he met. Tary would think maybe they had a moment, maybe they had something special, then the boy was off with some other person, and it always hurt the worst when it was a woman. 

 

The next morning Tary did not attend breakfast. After he was sure it was over, he sneaked into the kitchen to see if they had any leftovers they could give him. The head chef gave him some of the leftover coffee while she made him some fresh eggs. He thanked the half elf woman and inhaled the food.

“I remember you, from last night. You seemed to have made pretty good friends with the prince didn’t ya?”

Tary choked on some egg. “What?”

“Oh, you two wouldn’t stop making faces at each other. It’s nice to see little Percy having friends. He keeps to himself so often.” 

“I guess so. But he’s got Lady Vex’ahlia so he doesn’t exactly need friends.”

“Pish posh, everyone needs a friend. He’s got to escape her somehow.” The chef laughed along with a few of her staff who were listening.

“Escape her?”

“She’s a lovely girl, but too much time with her is, well, too much. She’s a girl who knows what she wants and she gets it. I don’t suggest being around her for extended periods if you can help it.”

“I guess I feel sorry for Percy then.”

“He’ll be fine, she’s a knockout anyways.”

“Yeah, she’s beautiful.” Tary said tonelessly.

 

He met Percy in the endless hallway again. This time he was heading in the direction he was coming from last night. Lady Vex’ahlia was nowhere to be seen.

“Good morning Percy.” Tary said with a stone straight expression.

“Good morning Tary.” Percy beamed at him.

Percy’s hair was scruffy like it had been the day they met and his puffy white shirt was wrinkled. 

“Did you fall asleep in the library again?” Tary didn’t know why he was asking, he knew the answer and did not want to be reminded of it.

“Something like that.” He smirked, implying what Tary already knew.

“You and the Lady? In the library?” He pretended to be surprised.

“Oh yes. Don’t judge.” Percy sounded less than enthusiastic. “It was her idea.”

“I would think that would be your dream, a lady in your own personal library?” Tary was just torturing himself at this point.

“Maybe to someone else. I would much rather share a library with someone who would share a chair with me  _ and  _ a pair of books.”

“I thought you liked Lady Vex’ahlia?”

“I do. But we don’t exactly fit each other’s company. Even yours and my company would be much more compatible than mine and Lady Vex’ahlia’s, and I’ve only known you for two days.” 

Percy made a face, realizing what he just implied. Tary mimicked his face of confusion and amusement, hoping that his beard was covering his blush. They both laughed, Percy’s was genuine but Tary’s came out uncomfortable. He was sure Percy didn’t notice, though.

“It certainly would be a lot less work for our fathers if  _ we  _ were betrothed.” Tary joked.

A laugh escaped Percy, surprised Tary would make that joke. “It would certainly mean less meetings for us. Speaking of that, I’ll see you this afternoon? Excited for your first royal meeting?”

In the midst of all of Tary’s internal drama, he had completely forgotten about the meetings. Weeks of sitting across from Percy, discussing topics he couldn't care less about. At least it would give him something nice to look at.

“Right. Oh I can’t wait.” Tary said sarcastically.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be bored off my arse right there with you.” He clapped Tary on the shoulder. “I’ll see you there then, huh?”

“Can’t wait.” This time it was only partially sarcastic. 

He could feel himself slipping into Percy’s unknowing grasp but he accepted that he couldn’t stop it.


	3. Chapter 3

The meeting was god awful. His father had told him a million times before they arrived that he expected Taryon to play a significant role in the negotiations with Whitestone, but so far the king and Howaardt had been locked in their own discussions, leaving no room for Tary nor Percy.

Sometimes Tary would try to jump in but he could never find a place, so he was left with an open mouth and half a gesture. Percy seemed to notice every time it happened. Tary’s attention would move from their enraptured fathers then frustratedly to the table. And when he was done taking his anger out on the table he would always find Percy looking at him sympathetically, while trying to contain laughter.

Tary mouthed at him,  _ You try. _

Percy shook his head wildly,  _ No, I’m good. _

Tary tried to focus his attention back on the discussion, although he had completely lost what they were talking about. Something about the average value of Whitestone property. 

After far too long of listening to his father’s uninterrupted droll, Tary felt a nudge on his foot. It was less gentle and more as if somebody had stepped on his foot while dancing. Tary was keen to ignore it, assuming it was an accident. Until it happened again. He turned his attention across the table to see Percy holding a piece of paper between his index and middle finger, perfectly out of their fathers’ sight. He raised his eyebrows and stuck the paper under the table.

Tary eyed him warily. He checked to make sure their fathers were too focused on each other to notice, then stuck his hand under the table. He fumbled around against the underside of the table before he found Percy’s hand. He had to try his very best to ignore the electricity he was sure only he felt when his skin connected with Percy’s. And the smirk and the eye contact Percy was dealing him wasn’t helping matters. He finally snagged the note from Percy’s hand and unfolded it in his lap, making sure their fathers were adequately distracted by each other before he did so.

_ I have an out, you want in?” _

He wanted nothing more. And the fact that it was Percy offering was just an added bonus. 

He nodded vigorously at Percy. Percy smiled a crinkly eyed smile at him.

Percy eyed their fathers, waiting for the most opportune time to jump in. They were arguing about some old Whitestone property law that Percy’s great great grandfather probably put into place.

“Father, would it be helpful if Tary and I went to the library to look that law up for you?” Tary could not fathom how Percy’s voice was capable of sliding from sounding like he lived in a tavern to sounding like he was made of money so effortlessly.

“Yes, go make yourselves useful for once.” The king brushed the two of them off with a backhanded answer that stung Tary, especially coming from someone who did not know him. But he shoved that aside in favor of letting relief that he could finally escape wash over him.

There was a gleam in both of their eyes as the boys practically lept from the table. They both took long strides until they reached the doorway, their subtle way of trying to escape as soon as humanly possible. 

Once they were clear of their fathers’ earshot they burst into laughter. Nothing was particularly funny, they were both just so happy to have gotten out of that miserable room.

“We have at  _ least  _ five more weeks of that, if not more.” Tary pointed out.

“Pelor help us both.”

They dropped their power walk in favor of a leisurely stroll to the library.

“Is that who you believe in?” Tary asked, knowing the answer already but always thankful for a talking point. 

“Pelor? Gods no. Most of Whitestone does but I don’t. I just figure I should take all the help I can get.” Percy said. Apparently Tary was wrong.

“You’re a smart man, Percival.”

“Stick with me Tary, I have much more wisdom to impart on you.” Percy casually threw his arm around Tary. 

Tary tensed up but forced his shoulders to relax. Tary decided that if he couldn’t escape Percy’s allure, he might as well enjoy it while he could.

The boys made their way to the library. They started out honest, searching through the Laws of Whitestone section, but quickly grew bored and moved on, assuming their fathers had already forgotten why they left anyways.

Percy began showing Tary some of his favorite sections. Tary quickly realized he could listen to Percy talk about things he loved for hours. He focused on the sound of Percy’s voice and the way it rose and fell excitedly, as opposed to the near monotone voice he used around his father.

“I guess that’s another perk of marrying Lady Vex’ahlia.” Percy said. Tary had zoned out to the sound of Percy’s voice and had no idea what he was talking about. It must have been apparent on his face because Percy clarified, “She lives in the Feywild.”

That sounded familiar. Percy had been raving about the Feywild. It was easier to take the time to admire Percy when the alternative was listening to a rendition of the entire history of the Feywild.

“Will you get to go there?” Tary asked.

“Probably. We will be living here in the castle but I imagine we will be visiting her homeland at least once in awhile.” Percy’s eyes were wistful, hopeful.

A few moments went by and both boys turned their attention back to the shelves. The stacks were close together, giving little room for two people to stand comfortably. But they were managing.

“Are you excited to marry her?” Tary asked out of nowhere. 

“Yeah.” Tary was not convinced. He looked up at Percy, who was about a head taller than him, trying to guilt him into changing his answer with puppy dog eyes.

After a tried and true attempt at staying strong, Percy admitted, “Not exactly. Don’t get me wrong, she  _ is _ lovely. But marrying her means my father will finally get what he wants.”

“And what is that?”

“I don’t know. For me to take responsibility? Be a real prince? Contribute something to society?” He listed as if they were the most drab things he could think of.

“And you don’t want to do that?” Tary asked.

“Being a prince has never really been my thing. I just got bad luck being the eldest son.”

“I know the feeling.” Tary said with a sigh.

“You do?”

“I have one younger sister so, by default, the family business goes to me. Somehow I never thought my father was serious about it growing up, that I could get out of it. The fact that I’m here right now proves I was wrong.”

“Your father reminds me a great deal of my own. And I think you’ll agree, that’s not a good thing.” Percy said.

“Oh yeah,” Tary felt compelled to laugh at their shared pain. Thankfully, so did Percy. “Sometimes when your father’s voice gets too loud I feel as if I have to duck away.”

Tary kept on laughing but Percy’s slowed. Tary feared that he had just shared too much. The sympathetic look Percy’s face was growing into told him he  _ had  _ shared too much.

“Tary,” Percy put his hand on Tary’s shoulder, “does your father hurt you?”

“No, I mean, well,” Tary tried to find the right words as to not directly implicate his father, but not lie either. He gave up. “Yes. Sometimes.”

Percy furled his brow gingerly. His eyes were sympathetic, he was sorry for Tary. It was a look that he was used to seeing, mostly from his mother and sister. The look of someone who could not do anything to stop his pain no matter how much they wanted to.

“I’m so sorry, Tary.” Percy said.

Tary got the feeling that Percy’s father did not go that far with him. Part of him thought that the two of them could understand each other in that way, but as usual he was alone in this. 

Percy tried to perk up his voice, “Well if he does that inside these castle walls, or anywhere within the Whitestone borders, tell me and I can have him kicked out of Whitestone for good. I might even be able to have him thrown in the dungeon for a little while.” 

“I doubt he would risk his stellar reputation by hitting his son outside the comfort of his own home,” Tary said it as a joke, but he was completely serious. He lowered his voice and said, “Thank you, Percy.”

Percy gave Tary’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze in response. Tary looked into Percy’s eyes. They still looked sad and sympathetic, though he was trying to give Tary a reassuring smile. Taryo rubbed his lips together, not looking away from Percy’s. The silence went on too long, but neither of them made any attempts to break it. Tary saw Percy’s foot take a small step in his direction out of his peripheral vision, attempting to take up the very minimal amount of space between them.

Then immediately retracted to its original position due to the sound of Lady Vex’ahlia’s voice breaking the silence.

“Percival! There you are. Your father told me I could find you here, though really I should have been able to guess.”

The meeting must have been over then. How long had they been in the library?

“Hello Vex’ahlia.” Tary swore he heard a hint of frustration in Percy’s voice, but then again he had been swearing a lot of things had been happening in the past few days.

Lady Vex’ahlia seemed to just take notice of Tary, “Oh hello, I’m sorry I do not believe I ever got your name, darling.”

Tary opened his mouth to talk but Percy interrupted him by slinging an arm around him and saying, “This is my friend, Tary. Well Tary to his friends, you might have to call him Taryon.”

Lady Vex’ahlia crinkled her nose like she was offended.

“Either is fine.” Tary reassured her, though he did hope that Tary could remain Percy’s special nickname for him.

“Well Tary,” Tary winced, “I must steal my fiance away, you do understand don’t you?”

“Of course.” That didn’t make him happy about it.

“I’m sure we will meet again, darling.” She waved her hand above her head, “Come along Percival.”

Lady Vex’ahlia turned away, assuming that Percy was tailing along behind her.

Before he followed like a good husband to be, Percy grabbed Tary by the crook of his elbow, “Will you come find me later tonight in the library?”

Before Tary could process what was happening, he said, “Yes.”

“Great!” And then he bounded off after his fiance.

 

Percy was not at dinner that night. Tary assumed he was off galavanting with Lady Vex’ahlia. Which he could make his peace with now that he had a date with Percy in the library. Though he had to keep telling himself it wasn’t an actual date. But it certainly didn’t feel like  _ not a date _ . All he knew is he could not stop thinking about that moment right before Lady Vex’ahlia stormed in.

All of the previous moments Tary thought they had shared hadn’t meant anything. Right? It was only Tary wildly misinterpreting Percy’s naturally cocky attitude. And in that tender moment, it had to have just been his imagination that Percy was leaning in. He told himself that over and over again.

But that did not stop him from spending the entire evening daydreaming about what could have happened if Lady Vex’ahlia had not interrupted. If the stars were aligned just perfectly with Tary’s wishes.

Would Percy have stooped down low to kiss Tary? Would Tary have stood up on his tiptoes to meet Percy’s lips? He liked to think that it would have been a little of both. He liked to think that Percy would cup his neck between his hands and hold him close. He imagined them leaning on the book cases and dropping the books in their hands as soon as their lips locked.

Tary had to actively force himself to stop thinking about it on his way to the library to meet Percy. He couldn’t have those thoughts on his mind while he was around Percy, it would make talking to him so much harder, so to speak.

Tary wandered the rows of shelves for a few moments, wondering if he would run into Percy or if he would have to go looking for him. He soon decided that the library was far too big and that he should go looking for Percy.

First he checked the Feywild section, the most obvious place he could think of. When Percy was nowhere to be seen, he went to the section with a few books on Wildmount. No such luck. He was all out of ideas. He began wandering again. Maybe Percy wasn’t even there yet and his attempts were fruitless.

Tary found himself in the romance section again. He picked up a few books and skimmed them for one not about a woman. Just his luck, this time he actually found one, and on his third try as well. Satisfied with himself, he tucked the book under the crook of his arm and began wandering again. 

He turned the corner, passing the reading nook where he caught Percy and Lady Vex’ahlia. He peaked in and was met face to face with Percy. He was leaning casually on the end of the bookshelf that housed his sister's romance book collection. 

Tary almost jumped out of his boots.

“Hello to you too.” His voice was smooth like butter. When he was trying to be cocky, he made sure that he was utilizing the full extent of his accent. Tary swore Percy could read his mind and knew that that voice drove him crazy.

“You scared me.” Tary said.

“I can see that. You knew where to find me.” Tary was confused. “Romance section. My best hiding place.” Percy elaborated.

“Oh, yeah. Don’t worry I haven’t given your secret away.” Tary said.

“Good. If you do, I probably have the power to declare it treason anyways.” Percy put on his royal voice and tried to look noble, but immediately cracked.

Laughing with him, Tary asked “So why did you want to meet here?”

“So we could read. What else does one do in a library?”

Tary could think of a couple things that Percy could do in a library but he decided to keep his mouth shut about it.

Percy plopped himself down in one of the chairs, specifically, Tary noticed, the one that he and Lady Vex’ahlia had been occupying the night before. So much for avoiding that image. Though this time there was more than one chair. He didn’t ask, but Tary assumed Percy must have brought the other chair in from somewhere else in the library, seeing as it wasn’t there the night before.

Each of them took a chair. Percy was right, the chair was more comfortable than the bed in Tary’s chambers. The chairs were both facing the entrance to the reading nook but angled towards each other just enough to where two people could easily meet eyes. Which also meant they were also close enough that Tary’s knee brushed up against Percy’s. 

Tary noticed it right away but made zero efforts to move, after all, Percy was the last one to sit down. Technically his leg was touching Tary’s. To Tary’s surprise, Percy kept his leg firmly in its original position against his. It made focusing on his book entirely more difficult than it should have been. 

After half an hour of not moving a muscle, not wanting to remind Percy that he was able to move his leg, Tary’s leg began to cramp. He tried to stick it out, but in the end he had to readjust. He only moved slightly, still keeping his leg brushing against Percy’s leather pants. Percy took the opportunity to adjust his position as well, causing Tary’s heart sank a little. But after sitting up Percy’s leg settled back against Tary’s. 

Tary glanced up from his book to see Percy looking at him. Percy gave him a warm smile that he cautiously returned. 

“What are you reading?” Percy asked. He leaned over the arm of his chair to get a better look at the cover of the book. His cheek was practically pressing up against Tary’s chest. Tary was terrified Percy would be able to hear the quickening of his heartbeat.

Suddenly hot with embarrassment, Tary was reluctant to admit it out loud. Instead of finding something else, he had stuck with the romance he had pulled off of Percy’s sister’s shelf. It was a risky move, he had to admit, but it was too late to think about that now.

“Ahh, one from my sister’s collection. A bold choice.” Tary could feel a hint of judgement coming from Percy. “Has the dashing prince swept the fair maiden off her feet yet?”

“Not exactly.” Tary trailed off.

“Or has he pestered her to the brink of death, leaving her no choice but to fall for him.” He feigned swooning.

“There isn’t exactly,” Tary said, “a fair maiden to speak of.”

Percy looked confused, then the realization lit up his eyes. “ _ Oh.  _ I get a little tired of reading about men and women falling in love myself.” 

He had said it so nonchalantly, leaning back into his chair and out of Tary’s bubble, but Tary could not deny the smirk on his face no matter hard he tried. 

Before either of them could continue the conversation, a woman’s figure appeared in the entryway to the reading nook.

“Percival, what are you going here?” Tary recognized her as Percy’s sister. She had been to some meals, the few times Taryon had attended.

“Reading.” He said as if it were obvious.

She pursed her lips and accepted his answer, no matter how much it seemed to pain her. “I see you’ve made a friend?”

“Cassandra, this is my friend Tary. Tary, Cassandra.” Percy acted as if it put him out of his way to introduce the them. Though he perked up when he said, “You two might get on quite well, it turns out you have the same taste in books.”

Tary timidly held up the cover of his book.

“Oh isn’t that one wonderful!” Cassandra’s swoon was genuine. “If you want more like it, I can show you where I hide them from father.” She winked.

“I just might take you up on that. Percy is no help at all, he scoffs every time we even come close to the romance section. I’m surprised he’s allowing us to sit so close to it.”

Percy looked hurt that Tary had just betrayed him in favor of his own sister.

“Typical Percival.” Cassandra rolled her eyes playfully along with Tary. Then she pretended to whisper to Percy, “I like him.”

She and Tary laughed together while Percy remained in a huff.

“Fine, fine. I’ll leave you guys alone. It was lovely to meet you, Tary. Don’t be shy.”

“It was a pleasure.” Tary said.

After she left, Percy said, “I can’t believe you like her more than me.”

“I spoke to her for  _ maybe  _ a minute.”

“It makes sense. Most people do, I won’t hold it against you.” 

His tone was playful but it took everything inside Tary to not give him a thousand reassurances that he most definitely liked him better than Cassandra. Instead he fed into the joke and laughed.

“So she has to hide  _ these kind of books  _ from your father?” Tary asked, holding up the book. More confident now with Cassandra’s approval.

“If by  _ that kind of book  _ you mean with two men, I’m sure it’s true. Father would be absolutely livid if he found them. He is very old fashioned.” Percy said with a groan. “It’s rather dreadful.”

“Wow.” A spike of worry jutted through Tary’s chest.

“In that case,” he seemed to be talking mostly to himself, “maybe I should dig them out. Something else for my father to despise about me.”

_ About me.  _

Instead of reading, Tary spent the remainder of their shared evening analyzing the remark to death. It couldn’t possibly mean Percy liked men, could it?


	4. Chapter 4

Note passing during meetings had become a regular occurrence over the next few weeks. They couldn’t keep sneaking out to hide in the library, lest they wanted to face the wrath of both of their fathers so they stuck to surreptitious correspondances, mostly to register their complaints about their fathers to one another.

_ I cannot tell which one of them is thicker. _

_ Maybe we should take over the family businesses after all. _

The notes were dangerous because they led to many near misses with their fathers. They had to get creative with hiding their laughter. The number one rule was no eye contact, because as they had learned the hard way, that only encouraged loud outbursts. At this point, both of their fathers were under the impression that they were coming down with a cold due to the amount of times they erupted into coughing fits in the middle of meetings.

They left meetings shoulder to shoulder and remained that way until they reached the library, where they would remain all afternoon and into the evening. They hardly ever showed up for dinner unless their fathers decided to harp on them about it.

Percy had stuck to his word, he made Cassandra show him where her secret stash of male romance books were and the two were marathoning her entire stack together.

“I was only doing this for you, you know.” Percy said one day from his usual spot in the reading nook.

Tary’s heart rose and fell within the same second. He was suddenly very self conscious about the past few weeks of spending time together, seeing as that was all they had done.

“I’m not forcing you to read the same books as me!”

“Well now I’m invested in it, and it’s your bloody fault! I used to hate romance!” Percy playfully smacked Tary in the arm. 

It took a great amount of self control for Tary not to flinch, but it must have failed because Percy’s eyes widened and he began apologizing.

Tary calmed him down, ensuring him that it was no big deal. Percy laid his hand on Tary’s knee and made sure one last time that he was okay. 

Percy kept his hand on Tary’s knee for the duration of their afternoon stay in the library. He alternated between stroking his thumb back and forth to a firm squeeze to lightly scratching his nails along the top of Tary’s knee. Each change quickened Tary’s heartbeat. At first he was hyper aware of it, unsure of what it was supposed to mean. But as time droned on, he grew accustomed to it. The touch became familiar and comforting. He let his mind forget about all the hopes he was meant to be squashing and just let it happen, guilt free.

When Percy jerked it away, his skin felt empty. But the thought did not last long when he saw Lady Vex’ahlia standing in the entryway. 

“Vex, dear,”

_ He called her Vex. _

“What a lovely surprise!” He said a little too loudly.

Tary took too much pleasure in the fact that Percy’s face was beet red.

“Hello Percival,” she ignored Tary entirely, “you know, darling, we have so much to prepare for with the wedding in  _ two weeks _ , can you spare a little time for your wife to be?” Her words were for Percy but her eyes were staring straight at Tary. He gulped and said nothing.

“Of course, dearest.”

He rushed out of the room with only a simple glance over his shoulder as goodbye.

 

Tary did not see Percy at all for the rest of the day.

At noon the next day a servant knocked on Tary’s door and handed him a handwritten note. He could tell before he read it just by the handwriting that it was from Percy. 

It read,  _ Miss you x,  _ with an arrow pointing to the other side of the paper. On the other side was a crudely drawn map that Tary assumed started with his room and lead to some room on the bottom floor that Percy had marked with a star.

He got turned around a few times due to Percy’s utter lack of drawing skills, which he planned to give him a hard time about as soon as he found him, but he eventually made it to a room with a large metal door.

Any thought of reprimanding Percy’s drawing skills was lost when he entered the room, which looked to be some sort of workshop. He was greeted with Percy facing away from him. He was wearing a sleeveless white shirt, bending over some sort of metalwork. He could see a sheen of sweat on his biceps, which were very prominent in that sorry excuse for a shirt. And larger than he had even dared to imagine.

Tary was sure he lost any ability to talk but he managed to squeak out, “Percy?”

Percy turned around and his eyes lit up behind his grease smudged glasses. In fact, his entire front was covered in grease stains. Tary did not think that this scenario could possibly make him think Percy was more attractive than he already did, but he was proven wrong. He had to actively control his shaky breath so Percy wouldn’t notice.

Percy grabbed a rag to wipe his hands as he said, “Tary! You made it.”

“Did you want something?”

“Did you not read the note?” Percy asked, the question cheeky. 

Tary cracked a smile. It grew bigger and so did Percy’s. The pair were standing in front of each other, smiling like fools and not saying a word. Tary would have been content with staying in that moment forever.

“What are you working on there?” Tary gestured behind Percy to the contraption on his workbench. “I didn’t know you were this much of a tinkerer.”

Percy’s eyes lit up even more than they had when Tary walked in, which caused Tary a bit of jealousy he had to admit. He felt silly being jealous of a metal machine. “It’s a little something for the guard. It’s a pepperbox.”

Tary gave Percy a dumbfounded look, asking for more of an explanation.

“You put the bullets in here,” Percy picked up the gun and put in a tiny round ball into a hatch and tipped the gun forward until he heard the ball roll forward. He placed the gun in Tary’s hands and stepped around behind him, wrapping his arms around Tary’s. “Aim it at the wall, and,” he looped both of their fingers around the trigger, “and pull.”

The gun made a deafening  _ bang  _ and the kickback sent Tary stepping back into Percy’s chest. He stood in Percy’s arms stunned for a moment, though not missing the chance to savor what it felt like to have Percy’s arms around him.

“Did you like that?” Percy whispered close to Tary’s ear. The noise sent a shiver through Tary’s nervous system. 

“It was,” Tary swallowed, “impressive.” The barrel of the gun was still smoking. “You must have spent a long time on it.”

“Lady Vex’ahlia,” Percy said in an annoyingly posh voice, “does not know this room exists. I needed something to do whilst I was avoiding her. That is, before you came along.”

Tary hated how red he could feel his face getting. It didn’t help that neither of them had moved. Or that Percy smelled like sweat and grease. Or that he could hear him breathing heavily in his ear.

“I thought you said she was lovely.” Tary swallowed again, his throat like sandpaper.

“I’m royalty, Tary, I’ve been lying since before I could talk.”

Tary turned around to face Percy. “So you really don’t like her, do you?”

“I certainly tried to like her. But you’ve spent enough time around her to-”

Tary interrupted him, “I’ve seen her a total of maybe five times.”

“Exactly. So you understand why I’m not exactly eager to be her husband.”

Tary could not hold in a burst of laughter. Percy only smiled at him. It was a closed lip smile. An endearing smile.

“You could just,  _ not,  _ marry her.”

It was Percy’s turn to laugh out loud. “It would be easier to just waltz up in front of the whole kingdom and exile myself, cut out the middleman, or woman in this case.”

“Well, I’m sure you can find some good in her.” Tary tried to offer.

Percy and Tary were already standing close together, but Percy took another step, nearly closing the gap between them. 

“God, I’m tired of talking about her.” Percy said as if it strained him, and he grabbed Tary by his jaw and kissed him. Hard.

Tary was frozen in place. It was everything and nothing like he imagined. Percy had one of his hands wrapped around the base of Tary’s neck, his fingers grasping onto Tary’s blond hair. The other hand was wrapped around his waist, pulling them closer, as close as they could possibly be with their clothes still intact.

Tary remained frozen for a moment, until Percy’s lips started moving, prodding Tary to kiss him back. Tary channeled his nerves into his desire and obliged him. They pushed against each other, bobbing back and forth. Percy took steps towards Tary, forcing him back. They kept moving backwards, without breaking the kiss, until Tary bumped into the wooden wall where the bullet had embedded itself. 

Percy had successfully pinned Tary between his own body and the wall. He had one hand above Tary’s head and the other still wrapped around his waist. Tary had taken to cupping Percy’s jaw with both hands so he could pull him closer. Percy sucked on Tary’s bottom lip which made Tary’s head spin and body melt. Percy was practically holding Tary up with one strong arm.

Gods it felt so good. It was even better than every night he stayed up imagining it. He had always thought it would be in the library. How things were so much different. He had not even been aware of this room’s existence until the last hour. But this was better than the library. In the library Percy wouldn’t be sweaty or covered in grease. And he would certainly be wearing a more substantial shirt, which would have been a tragedy.

“You know,” Percy pulled back just long enough between kisses to get the words out, “I’ve always preferred blonds to brunettes.”

Tary smiled against Percy’s kisses, relishing in the backhanded comment about Vex’ahlia. If he wasn’t in the process of living out his wildest fantasy, he might have felt guilty about it. But now all he could focus on was the taste of Percy’s lips and the feeling of his hands roaming his body.

A knock on the metal door stopped their feverish make out in its tracks. 

Both boys were breathing heavily, staring into each other’s eyes. They were both terrified of being caught but thrilled by being in each other’s arms.

Without breaking eye contact with Tary or letting him go, Percy said, “Yes?”

“Your highness, the meeting with your father begins in five minutes.”

Both boys groan, the meeting was the last thing on either of their minds. Percy rested his forehead on Tary’s and closed his eyes.

“Thank you, Jarett.” Percy said.

They listened for the sound of Jarett’s footsteps to fade before they both groaned again, even louder this time.

“We should go,” Tary lowered his voice, “ _ your highness.” _

“Mm. I like the sound of that.” Percy pushed his lips into Tary’s one last time.

Tary let himself get lost in the kiss for a moment but pushed him away.

“Later. Let’s go.” He laughed and grabbed Percy by the shirt and pulled him to the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for (the aftermath of) parental abuse in the last couple of paragraphs

“Tary, you’ve, uh-” Percy gestured in a circular motion at Tary’s face. 

“What?”

They were standing outside the doors to the council room where all of their fathers’ meetings took place. Percy had stopped Tary before they could go in.

Percy was trying to hold in laughter, “You’ve got some, uh, grease on your face.”

“Well so do you!”

“Where do you think yours came from?”

They each used the most inconspicuous parts of their clothing to wipe the grease from each other’s faces. When they were sure nothing look suspicious, they entered the meeting room.

Both the king and Howaardt were giving the boys the death glare. Tary’s pulse quickened, in the complete opposite way that it had just minutes before.

“Glad to see you could both show up. We’ve been here ten minutes.” Howaardt focused all of his attention on his son, “You’ve kept the king waiting ten minutes, Taryon.”

Tary looked at the ground and said, “I’m sorry, father.” He felt Percy’s hand squeeze his shoulder and he was able to breathe semi normally again.

“You will apologize to the king.” Howaardt commanded.

“I apologize, your highness.” Tary bowed slightly, mostly to hide his own smirk. He hated that all he could think of was how Percy reacted to being called “your highness.” He hoped that’s what Percy was thinking about as well, which was all but confirmed when Percy cleared his throat a little louder than was necessary.

“Still coming down with that cold, son?” The king asked venomously.

“I’m getting over it.” Percy shot back without missing a beat. He let go of Tary’s shoulder and plunked down into his seat.

Tary took his usual seat across from Percy, unable to stop thinking about his father berating him. He caught Percy’s eye for just a moment and felt the butterflies in his stomach. He avoided Percy for as long as he could until he felt a kick on his shin. 

He mouthed,  _ Ow! _

And Percy mouthed back,  _ Sorry!  _ Then reached his hand under the table to hand Tary a note. Their hands met and Tary almost pulled his hand away when he felt the sparks. But he realized he didn’t have to anymore. They lingered with their fingers brushing, sharing a slight smile above the table. Though Tary quickly returned to the scowl his father had caused.

The note said,  _ You good? _

Tary nodded at Percy.

Percy scribbled another note onto a piece of paper and handed it under the table.

_ Good. Staring at you is much more fun when you’re smiling, darling. _

Taryon blushed fiercely and tried to contain his smile, but he made the grave mistake of looking at Percy. Percy must have noticed how red Tary’s cheeks were because he winked at him, which drove Tary even more mad.

The two of them spent the remainder meeting making eyes at each other, seeing who would look away first. Percy lost a surprising amount of the time. 

They exchanged clandestine notes, each more blush worthy than the last.

_ You look cute with grease on your face, wish we could have left it. _

_ Imagine how I felt when I walked into the workshop. _

_ I’ve wanted to kiss you like that for weeks. _

_ I’m glad you did it today. The exposed biceps were a nice touch. And nice  _ _ to _ _ touch. _

After that last note, Percy made a show of removing his jacket so he was back to the sleeveless undershirt. Tary could hardly keep his eyes off of Percy’s arms, and Percy was relishing in it. His smirk was in full effect and so was the redness that was making permanent residence in Tary’s cheeks. Percy leaned back in his chair and rested his arms on the top of his head in order to have an excuse to flex his unfairly large biceps for Tary. Tary shifted in his chair trying to keep his cool when all he wanted was to grab the front of Percy’s shirt and kiss him until his brains were mush.

The king cleared his throat. Neither of the boys had been listening to anything their father’s had been talking about, which was not unusual, but this time they had much more to lose.

“Are you comfortable, Percival?” The king asked, referring to Percy’s reclined position.

Percy’s royal voice was only making things worse for Tary, “Yes, I am father.” He said it smugly but conceded, returning to a more suitable position and donning his jacket again.

The rest of the meeting went by with no more notes or attempts at raising the sexual tension to publicly inappropriate levels. Every time they accidentally caught each other’s eye, they blushed and looked away. Pure and innocent.

When the meeting ended, the boys made sure the exited the room after their fathers.

“I have business I must attend to with Vex’ahlia. Wedding planning,” Percy rolled his eyes dramatically. He caressed Tary’s arm, “but I can see you at dinner? Vex’ahlia is making me go and it would be so much more interesting with a pretty face to look at.”

“Of course.” Tary smiled.

“I’ll see you there.” Percy took a quick glance behind Tary’s shoulders and then his own, then planted a kiss on Tary’s lips. It was so quick that Tary was hardly even sure it happened.

Percy ran off behind Tary. Tary watched him go until he turned the corner, touching a gentle finger to his lips.

Tary returned his room after the meeting and was met with his father standing in the middle of the room.

“Father, what are you doing here?”

“You were late today.”

“I know, I’m sorry I-” Tary stammered.

“That doesn’t make me happy, son.” Howaardt’s tone sent a familiar shock of electricity through Tary’s entire body.

After that day, the wedding planning began eating up much more of Percy’s time than Tary was happy with. For the past two weeks, Tary had felt like he was in direct competition with Vex’ahlia for Percy’s affections, which he always was, but he had grown used to being chosen over her, which was not an option when she could pull the wedding planning card.

But this evening, Tary and Percy had made plans to meet in the library, and Tary was practically sprinting down the hall to meet him.

When he got there Percy was already lounging comfortably in his chair with his feet up on Tary’s. Tary picked Percy’s legs up off the chair and sat down and let his feet resume their position.

Percy leaned over the arms of both chairs and kissed Tary. While technically uninteresting, a chaste kiss, it was long and lingering and melted Tary’s insides. 

Against Percy’s lips, Tary said, “Hello, your highness.”

“Somebody was listening.” Percy purred. Tary could feel Percy’s lips curling into a smile against his own. It was hard not to listen to the way Percy moaned every time Tary called him that.

They pulled apart and just looked at each other. Tary broke the silence.

“This note passing is really getting out of hand.”

“I thought you would really like it today.” Percy bit his lip.

Today’s note had been all about Percy’s fantasy of taking Tary right there on the council room table. It resulted in Tary nearly choking on nothing and explaining away the redness in his face with the possibility of a fever.

“I’m not going to say I didn’t enjoy it, but I’m not so sure my father would had he confiscated it.” Which had nearly happened, it was the first time either of their fathers had laid eyes on one of their notes. Tary brushed it off as a reminder he had written himself. It was a call too close for comfort.

“What’s the fun in a secret affair if you don’t nearly get caught?”

Secret affair. Tary liked the sound of that. It was romantic. Well, it could be for the time being. He didn’t allow himself to think about the implications of what disastrous scenarios awaited them in the future if they continued this. All he knew is that he wanted to kiss Percy. Right. Now.

Tary kicked Percy’s feet off of his lap and leaned over Percy. He took Percy’s jaw in both of his hands like earlier and pressed their lips together. Tary stood as they kissed with Percy reaching up to reach Tary, to be closer to him. While Tary took great amounts of pleasure in Percy struggling to get closer to him, he decided to make it easier on him. He hooked his knees between the armrests and Percy’s thighs, straddling him. Percy grasped Tary’s rear end and pulled him closer, so they were flush against each other.

They kissed for an amount of time that didn’t matter because time was frozen. Percy’s hands stroking and pulling through Tary’s hair, Tary’s wrapped completely around Percy, exploring the muscles of his back under that dreadfully modest coat of his.

Eventually they ran out of air, to their dismay. They lay back in their reclining chairs, hands lazily grasping each other. Neither of them looked at the other, both staring at the ceiling in the comfort of each other's presence.

“Was wedding planning as miserable as I spent all afternoon imagining it was?” Tary asked.

“Somehow less miserable than I imagined,” Percy recounted, “Vex’ahlia is very much interested in micromanaging every detail of the entire affair so I have very little to actually do besides sit there and agree with every word she says.”

“Has she chosen what you are going to wear?” Tary asked.

“Oh, yes.” Percy sighed, “My outfit is complete with an awful cobalt blue cape. Something about matching her feathers? I won’t lie to you, I wasn’t paying the most attention.”

“A cape?” Tary couldn’t hold in a burst of laughter.

“You can’t laugh at me! I don’t have a say!” Percy tightened his grip on Tary’s hand, laughing with him.

“I’m sure if anyone can make a cape work, it’s you. I’m sure you’ll look dashing.” Tary looked over to Percy, rendering him speechless for a moment.

“You can be the judge of that.” Percy stuttered almost imperceptibly, but Tary caught it and smiled to himself.

“I didn’t think I would be in attendance to see it.” Tary said, his voice growing solemn, taking his eyes off Percy. 

Percy blinked a few times, obviously confused. This time his stutter was blatant, “W- why wouldn’t you?”

Tary didn’t want to talk about this now. He wanted to pretend that everything was fine and they would get to live happily ever after. That the wedding was never really coming and that all of the wedding planning meetings were just blips in between the times he could see Percy. 

“I assumed we would not be continuing,” Tary motioned between the two of them, at a loss for words of what they meant to each other, “ _ this,  _ once you wed Vex’ahlia.”

Percy continued stumbling over his words. Tary was worried, he had never seen Percy like this. He was always so clever and unflinching in his choice of words, especially to him. “I- you- I mean- yes. I guess you’re right.” Tary and Percy stared into each other’s eyes, daring the other to break first. And it was Percy. His voice cracked as he studied his hands intently and said, “I would like you to come as my friend, though.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.” Now Tary was the one avoiding Percy’s eyes. Tears sat on his waterline, held in by some invisible barrier that was threatening to break at any moment.

“What are you saying?” Percy said. His voice sounded hurt, accusatory.

“I don’t know.” He knew what he should be saying. But the wedding wasn’t for three more weeks, it was time they could never retrieve after Percy said his vows. Time he couldn’t be the one to sacrifice right now.

“I think I know what you mean.” Percy dropped Tary’s hand and rested his hands on his chest pensively. Neither of them said anything, though Tary was dying to.

Without any words, Percy picked himself up and left, and Tary did nothing to stop him.

 

Dinner went about as well as it could have from the outside. But on the inside, Tary was dying. From the outside he looked like the well mannered son of a businessman, not speaking unless spoken to. But really he had nothing to say to anyone. Except Percy. But nothing he could say in front of his father, Percy’s father, and Percy’s bride to be.

Stolen glances no longer caused blushing. They didn’t indicate notes to be passed clandestinely under the table. They didn’t cause sore lips from biting down smiles. Now they only caused an unbearable emptiness where  _ what could have been _ lived. 

A selfish part of him hoped Percy felt that way too, hoped he wasn’t angry with him. The furrowed brow Tary was met with every time they caught each other’s eye was vague, but the tears in his eyes were a dead giveaway, solidified when he soon after excused himself from dinner early, making the emptiness Tary felt inside a tangible hole in his vision.

After dinner officially ended, Tary went back to his room, intending to turn in for the night, though he never made it to his bed. He spent the better part of an hour pacing around the ornate circular rug in the middle of his room, wondering, wishing, planning.

He pictured Percy knocking on his door, telling him the wedding was off, both of them crying tears of happiness into each other’s arms. But unsurprisingly, Percy never showed up.

He weighed his options. He  _ could  _ just never talk to Percy ever again. Wait out his stay in Whitestone and make it back to Wildmount with his heart sewn together and live the rest of his life until the memory of Percy was fondly remembered as a youthful romantic fling. 

He could put everything behind him and try to be friends with Percy and support him at his wedding. Let his romantic and otherwise feelings subside over time and not lose Percy.

Tary chose neither of those options.

Though the former seemed rather appealing between the times when Tary knocked on Percy’s bedroom door and when Percy appeared in the doorframe wearing a white shirt that was entirely, and rather unfairly, unbuttoned.

Tary could have said something, yes, but instead he took Percy’s jaw in his hands and kissed him. Percy drew in a sharp breath against his lips as Tary pushed him inside the room far enough to shut the door behind them. 

The boys made slow progress to the bed, stopping to pull each other closer after every few steps. Percy’s unbuttoned shirt, while wildly attractive, was short lived and found its way to the floor very quickly. As did many articles of Tary’s clothing. 

They landed on the bed, weighed down by far less clothes than they had started with. By this point, Percy had taken the role of pushing Tary to the bed and landed on top of him. Tary’s feet were planted firmly on the ground while his torso was pinned firmly to the bed by Percy’s weight. 

Percy wove his arms between Tary’s back and the soft mattress to pull him closer as they kissed. This was what Tary wanted for more than three more weeks. But for all he knew this could be the last time he could be with Percy like this, so he savored it.

He savored the feeling of Percy body pressed to his, the taste of Percy’s tongue against his own, the smell of sweat and grease that had grown to feel like home. 

“Don’t marry her.” Tary said against Percy’s lips.

Without slowing down Percy said, “Tary, I have to.”

No he didn’t  _ have  _ to. His father just wanted him to. Selfish thoughts clouded Tary’s mind while their hands and lips roamed all over each other, to places the two of them had never ventured on each other.

Percy roamed his hands all over Tary’s back, which was very pleasant, until Tary arched his back and cried out in pain.

“What? What?” Percy pushed his weight off of Tary, frantically trying to figure out what was wrong.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” Tary said, but the lie was obvious.

“That didn’t sound like nothing.”

“Well, it’s not nothing. But it’s fine, I promise.” Tary pleaded.

Percy looked into his eyes quizically, until it dawned on him. “No.” He said disbelievingly.

“Percy-”

“In the castle? Where did he hurt you?” Percy demanded.

Tary motioned towards his back and Percy sat up on the bed, allowing Tary to bare his back. Percy gasped at what Tary assumed were pretty gruesome looking welts and bruises. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to look at them for the past two weeks, though if they still hurt this badly, they must have looked even worse.

“You can’t let him keep doing this, Tary.” Percy got up off the bed and was surely going to head out the door and straight to Howaardt Darrington had Tary not grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Please,” Tary begged, “Just stay with me.”

Percy sat back down on the bed, defeated. He laid down with his head on the pillow and beckoned for Tary to join him. He curled his arms around Tary’s middle and began planting kisses across the top of Tary’s back and shoulders.

“I hate that you have to live like this.” Percy said.

“Me too.” Tary trailed off.

Talking was over. They spent the rest of the night locked in each other’s arms, holding onto what could possibly be their last moment of intimacy together. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much everyone for reading this! i hope you had as much fun reading it as i did writing it. enjoy the FINAL CHAPTER

It was by no means their last moment of intimacy. The wedding was in three weeks and Tary showing up at Percy’s room after the rest of the castle had fallen asleep became routine. 

They didn’t talk about that night, but Percy always made a point of keeping his roaming hands above the shoulders or below the belt.

After a week Tary convinced himself it was a bad idea, that he was only prolonging and intensifying the pain he would feel after the wedding, so he stayed in his room. An hour past the time when Tary was usually standing outside of Percy’s door, there was an almost inaudible knock at his own. Tary found Percy standing sheepishly in his doorway, face red and eyes the size of dinner plates. After that they were back on their regular schedule again.

For the duration of the three weeks, Tary convinced himself time and time again that he would go to the wedding to support the person he cared most about, but by nightfall, pressed up against him, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to stomach it.

They spent every night together, including the night of the wedding against Percy’s better judgement, which he was very vocal about while they were tangled up in each other. Before Tary forced himself out of bed and back to his room, Percy said, “I really wish you would come.” He stared at the wall across the room, avoiding Tary’s eyes.

“To the wedding?”

“Of course to the wedding.”

Tary thought about it. This was usually the time of night he was so adamantly against attending that damned wedding that he would rather walk all the way back to Wildmount than watch Percy leave him behind for a woman he didn’t love, or really even like for that matter. But somehow the pleading sadness in Percy’s voice felt worse than any pain he could imagine feeling sitting in those pews tomorrow.

In the end he said nothing. They sat in silence next to each other. Hands and thighs and feet just barely brushing on the mattress next to each other. Tary wished he could be in Percy’s arms but he didn’t dare move and risk disrupting what they already had. 

“I should go. You need sleep for tomorrow.” Tary said, already climbing towards the end of the mattress. He was standing at the edge of the bed, ready to walk out of Percy’s room for the last time when Percy grabbed his hand.

“Please stay.”

Tary fought back tears rather unsuccessfully. Percy tugged on Tary’s arm until he turned around. Tary was embarrassed of his tear filled eyes until he met Percy’s, whose were in a similar state. Percy got up on his knees and planted a soft, chaste kiss on Tary’s lips. He pulled him into the bed and into his arms where they remained all night. 

 

Tary and Percy stumbling out of Percy’s room in the late morning was expertly explained away by Percy claiming they had a wild bachelor party that ended in drunken faceplants on his bedroom floor. The guards who caught them thought it was hilarious, while Tary was silently heartbroken that that would be how the last memory of him and Percy would forever live in the universe.

Percy was whisked away for wedding preparations almost as soon as he set foot in the hall. Tary knew he shouldn’t be upset that Percy had to be present for wedding preparations, but they took him before noon to prepare for a wedding that began at nightfall so he allowed himself the simple pleasure of jealousy. He didn’t even get a proper goodbye.

Why did this happen every time he found someone he could love? If fathers would just stay out of their son’s love lives, the world would be a much happier place. Though maybe if his father had not sent Lawrence away, Tary would never have been in this situation, and though it was painful, he wasn’t sure if he would make the trade. 

Sometime in the middle of the day, Tary’s father caught up to him. Tary had to hold in what would have been the most dramatic eye roll he had ever attempted when he found out that his father had somehow gotten himself invited to the royal wedding. Of course his father of all people would manage to ruin what was already one of the worst days of his life.

“You will be attending with me. The king is taking me as his distinguished guest, and therefore by default,” Howaardt’s voice deflated, “you as well.”

“I was already planning on attending.” Tary said.

“Did you think you could just walk in unannounced?” Howaardt guffawed. “You need an invitation, Taryon.” He placed a condescending hand on his son’s shoulder.

“I was invited,” Tary said, barely audible. 

“Oh really? By whom?” Howaardt challenged.

“Percy.”

“Right. The two of you are...” Howaardt searched for the correct word, then knowingly said, “Close.”

Tary froze. Of course his father would have guessed. He already knew about Lawrence. It was exactly the same as last time, acquaintances growing a little too friendly. Howaardt knew the signs. 

The serpent like smile that grew on Howaardt’s face made Tary’s stomach turn. The only explanation for it he could think of was that his father had just realized Tary was going to have to watch the man he loved walk down the aisle with a woman. It was better than any punishment Howaardt could dole out.

But Tary refused to give his father the satisfaction of seeing him upset. “I guess I’ll see you there.” He said with a noncommittal shrug and walked away before his father could say anything more.

The rest of the day was spent hiding from his father behind his locked bedroom door. He went through the three suits he had brought with him, trying to decide which one to wear, which one Percy would think he looked best in. But in the end he decided that was no longer any of his concern and chose the one he was currently wearing, simple black.

The church of Pelor was full of rich important people from all corners of Tal’Dorei. Tall, slender elves adorned in Elven fashion that Tary had never seen before mixed in with the humans and occasional half elves and gnomes dressed in fashion from this plane.

Tary made himself scarce in order to avoid mingling that would inevitably force him to speak about Percy in a way that implied he didn’t know exactly what it felt like to have the groom’s lips pressed against his skin.

A flurry of trumpets called everyone to their seats. Tary discovered to his moderate dismay that he had a reserved seat on the isle of the second row, right behind the king. No doubt Percy’s doing. 

He looked back over his shoulder at the massive crowd behind him and made eye contact with his father who was sitting about five rows back. His father must have been exaggerating about being the king’s distinguished guest. Howaardt glared at him, which sent a shiver up Tary’s spine that twisted him back around to face the front of the chapel.

Cassandra turned around from her seat next to the king and gave Tary a small wave. He tried to return it but his smile faltered. He hoped she hadn’t noticed before she hastily returned her attention to the front of the church.

Percy and the priest had taken their places at the altar. Tary already regretted coming. Although, he  _ was  _ right. Percy was the only person in the world who could look absolutely breathtaking in a cobalt blue cape. That was the only good thing about this wedding, it was giving Tary the opportunity to openly and unabashedly stare at Percy without anyone suspecting a thing. 

A burst of melodic trumpets, accompanied this time with an organ and creaking doors, signalled that Vex’ahlia had arrived and the wedding was beginning. Though every other person in the room turned around in their pews, Tary kept his gaze locked on Percy, assuming not even Percy would catch him stealing a glance at him.

He was wrong. He let his eyes wander up and down Percy lazily, but when he focused on Percy’s face, Percy’s eyes were locked onto his. Tary’s jaw went slack, parting his lips ever so slightly. He wished he could give Percy some kind of reassuring smile, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Whatever his mouth did do was lopsided and neutralized by the sadness in his eyes. He couldn’t decide whether it made him feel better or worse that Percy’s eyes cast a similarly hopeless light.

No matter how much he wanted to look away, he kept staring at Percy. At this point it was just masochistic. He didn’t  _ like  _ staring at Percy, not like he used to. These final moments weren’t bringing him any amounts of joy, but they were final moments nonetheless and he couldn’t waste them no matter how much it hurt.

Vex’ahlia finally came into Tary’s view and Percy must have just noticed her too because his eyes went wide in awe, or maybe disturbance, at the size of her wedding dress that had a train trailing halfway down the aisle.

Tary watched Vex’ahlia grab Percy’s hands as soon as she ascended the altar, practically jumping for joy, while Percy put his mouth close to her ear and whispered something that made her giggle. He imagined Percy telling her she looked beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, amazing. Words that made him want to vomit because they weren’t meant for him.

The priest began with his drabble about the blessing light of Pelor shining on them, but Tary’s mind was too fixated on the length of Percy’s freshly shaven jawline to care. Percy kept glancing to what most of the people in the room thought was the crowd itself, but Tary knew was directly at him. Each glance was sadder, more apologetic than the last. It was as if this was all becoming so suddenly real to Percy now that he was standing at the altar holding the hands of a woman he didn’t love.

“Percival?” Tary snapped back to reality. The priest was talking. 

Percy snapped back into the moment as well, saying, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Looks like somebody’s nervous.” The priest got the rest of the crowd to laugh with, or maybe at, Percy. Percy shifted his weight and pulled at the collar around his increasingly red neck.

“Repeat after me, son. I, Percival Fredrickstein Von Mussel Klowasski De Rolo III,”

“I, Percival Fredrickstein Von Mussel Klowasski De Rolo III,” Percy looked out into the crowd and smirked at the patchy laughter at the perfect recitation of his needlessly long name. Tary’s heart skipped a beat. This day would not let him forget how attractive Percy was.

“Take Vex’ahlia Vassar,”

“Take Vex’ahlia Vassar,”

“For richer or for poorer,”

“For richer or for poorer,”

“In sickness and in health,”

“In sickness and in health,”

“To honor and respect,”

“To honor and respect,”

“To be my lawfully wedded wife,”

“To be my…” Percy stopped so short it was as if something was physically preventing him from letting the words escape his throat.

Percy’s eyes darted straight to Tary. This time instead of a dull melancholy, there was panic in his eyes. He watched Vex’ahlia fidget and look at the crowd nervously before her brows furrowed in anger.

The crowd’s murmuring grew in waves and Tary felt like he was in the eye of the storm. He felt like all eyes were on him, when in reality he was a nobody to this crowd, they were all focused on the groom who wouldn’t marry his bride.

Percy whipped his head between Vex’ahlia, searching for an answer. 

“Percival, darling, is everything alright?” Vex’ahlia said, doing a poor job of holding back the venom in her voice.

“I-” He looked over to Tary again, and this time so did Vex’ahlia. He froze at the sight of her piercing eyes, worried that she might come over and throw him out herself. Thankfully, Percy started talking again and her wrath shifted to him, “I can’t.” 

The crowd’s murmuring grew into shouts of confusion as Percy stormed down the blue carpeted steps of the altar. The king rose and tried to grab Percy’s arm as he stomped by, but Percy violently shrugged him off in order to reach Tary’s side. 

He grabbed Tary by the arm forcefully, but not with violence, clinging onto it. “I can’t. I can’t do it.” His words were soft. No one else in the room could hear him over their own shouts.

Tary stood up clumsily to be eye level with Percy. He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. He looked past Percy’s glasses and into his cold, blue-grey eyes, waiting for him to say something. Anything. The room hushed and waited with him.

Percy didn’t seem to notice the change in volume, that everyone was staring at them, while that was all Tary could think about. Which was saying something considering he was standing this close to Percy. 

“I can’t marry her, Taryon.” This was the first time he had called him Taryon since the first day they’d known each other. “It’s my wedding day and I can’t say my vows without looking out into the crowd and wishing I was saying them to you instead of the woman standing across from me. I am standing up there on that altar looking at all I am throwing away if I say  _ I do.  _ This isn’t what I want, I don’t want to be unhappy for the rest of my life, and the only way for my life to be happy is if you are in it.” He grabs Tary’s hands like he had been holding Vex’ahlia’s.

Everybody in the church had heard what he said. Everyone knew. Vex’ahlia knew. The king knew. Howaardt knew. But they didn’t matter, Tary couldn’t bring himself to look at anyone but Percy.

“You know I would in an instant,” Tary said. Whispering as if that would prevent the crowd hearing him in a room that could hear a pin drop. “But what about Whitestone? What about becoming king?”

“Yes, Percival,” The king cut in condescendingly, “What about becoming king?”

Percy pointedly ignored his father. “Fuck the monarchy. Fuck Whitestone. Fuck the crown. I only want you.”

“I-I-” Tary couldn’t form words.

“Run away with me.” Percy begged wistfully. “We can go anywhere we want. We can run far, far away. We could run to the Feywild, if you’d let me.” He laughed weakly, tears building on his waterline. “We can be nobodies, free from everything and everyone that hurts us.” Percy squeezed Tary’s hands.

This offer was everything Tary had been dreaming of for weeks. But the thought of actually doing it had so many consequences. One namely being his father being between them and the door. But he wasn’t about to let someone he loved slip through his fingers because of his father again.

“Yes. Please.” Was all Tary could squeak out.

Percy’s face widened into a grin that Tary only got to admire for a moment before Percy pulled Tary’s mouth into his own and kissed him like an actor in a play. He threw his arm around Tary’s waist and forced his back into an arch. Gasps rang out in a circle around them, but Tary was beyond caring. They were going to be nobodies as soon as they cleared that door. Tary unashamedly kissed Percy back right in front of his father.

When Percy pulled back, he interlaced his fingers with Tary’s and dragged him down the aisle. They passed Howaardt who was fuming. His face was even redder than Vex’ahlia’s, who was still at the altar, dumbfounded.

“You can’t do this son.” His voice was equal parts threatening and threatened, “Think of the family. You can’t run away with some  _ boy.”  _ He spat out the word “boy.”

“Oh, he can and he will.” Percy spat with hatred in his voice. “You can’t hurt him anymore.” 

Percy pulled his arm back and threw all of his weight into slugging Howaardt Darrington across the face in front of the entire church. Howaardt was slammed into the pew, dazed and carressing his cheek. The crowd screamed while Percy shook out his already bruising hand and once again began leading Tary down the aisle.

They walked with their chests held high, letting the raucous crowd gawk at them as they walked by. This was a day everyone in that room was going to remember. 

Nobody tried to stop them, not even the guards posted at the door. But Percy did have to heave the doors open by himself, which Tary couldn’t deny, somehow made him even more attractive.

They exited into the snowy cobblestone streets of Whitestone and Percy took off running with Tary in tow.

“Where are we going?” Tary asked through the whipping wind.

Percy slowed their pace to a stop and whipped around. “I don’t know!” He said excitedly. He grabbed Tary’s face and kissed him like the world was ending, snowflakes falling into their hair and between their lips. This felt like a dream. When Tary first got off that carriage in Whitestone, he never imagined that he would leave as a fugitive, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Percy pulled away from him, nose and cheeks rosy and eyes full of light, “And I don’t care. I’ll go anywhere with you.”

“And I with you.”


End file.
